


Partners

by Drazyrohk



Series: Not Quite a Redemption Story [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 01:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15499635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: While searching for supplies, Arcee instead comes across survivors. In them she finds a bit of closure that she wasn't expecting.





	Partners

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome! This ficlet is a side story in the Not Quite a Redemption Story series that focuses on one of the stories I wanted to explore without taking away from the main plot. I hope you enjoy!

Guiding recruits on a scavenging mission wasn’t exactly a hard task, but it certainly wasn’t one that Arcee normally would have signed up for. Seeing as it got her out of the base and away from the stifling atmosphere there, she was altogether too happy to be doing it right now. 

Things had been impossibly tense since the armistice was approached. Being Second in Command, she had a lot on her plate and scavenging was a wonderful reprieve. 

“Alright boys and girls, leave no stone unturned.” Arcee called to the recruits. She kept her blaster at the ready as she picked her way through the rubble, her sensors on high. With so many rumors of Swarm lurking about, she didn’t want anything to happen to the bots under her care. “And keep your optics open.” 

There were murmurs of affirmation, the recruits tossing aside scraps as they searched for anything useable. 

The floor beneath their pedes wasn’t as dusty as she would have liked. There were clear paths carved into the metal from heavy use, but they hadn’t been made by anything bigger than she was herself. A quick scan of the roof above her showed that nothing had been travelling around like an Insecticon could. The ceiling was riddled with rust and gnawed on in place by Scraplets, but the travel paths were confined to the floor. 

Arcee raised her scanner and began searching for lifesigns within the building they were venturing further into. Buildings like this sometimes acted as dens for the nastier things lurking on Cybertron, but they also sometimes housed abandoned labs, medical bays and sometimes even ships. They’d been lucky to find an old energon storage facility a few weeks ago, though the fuel they’d found there had needed a great deal of cleaning and filtering to be fit for consumption. 

“We’ve got heat trails, sir.” One of the team called to her, and Arcee nodded in reply. She was picking them up on her own scanner. Faint, but definitely indicative of something within this structure being alive very recently. 

“Do you think it’s Insecticons?” Someone asked. 

“Unlikely. The trails are too small.” Arcee said in response. 

“Too small to be Predacons too.” Her lead scout said with a hopeful edge to his voice. 

“We can’t be sure about that. Skylynx and Darksteel were much smaller than Predaking. If Shockwave is still out there making more of his monsters, he might be doing so with far less supplies than before. The result of his work might be smaller because of it.” Arcee said, pausing at a crossroads ahead. “We can’t let our guards down. Big things can come in small packages.” 

“Speaking from experience, Arcee?” First Aid asked as he approached her from behind. 

A medic was a rare luxury on a mission like this, but with a few apprentices in the base, the Commander had insisted they take one along today. Arcee was grateful for it. First Aid had been running around with Wreckers for who knew how long, he wasn’t as skittish as he seemed. 

“Maybe I am. I’ve taught a lot of Decepticons not to underestimate me based on my size.” Arcee said with a smirk. 

“Trail’s getting hotter.” Her scout said. “Headed left.” 

“We split up. First Aid, stay with me. We’re going left.” Arcee instructed. “Remember, if you encounter anything you can’t take, sound the alarm and head outside. Call for a bridge. No heroics.” 

“Roger.” The rest of the team nodded, the three of them splitting off and heading to the right as Arcee lead the way down the left hall. 

“This is a lot different than the scavenging I’ve done out in the field with the Wreckers.” First Aid commented as they headed down into the dark. 

“More strict?” Arcee asked as she glanced over her shoulder briefly at him. 

“I was going to say organized.” First Aid laughed. “But yes, the rules are a bit more rigid than I’m used to. I’m honestly grateful for that, I know better what to expect. Protocol is good.” 

“Glad you think so.” Arcee said. Her steps slowed as her scanner picked up two lifesigns ahead, and she gestured to First Aid to keep quiet. 

They came upon them, moving as quietly as they could, and found them huddled in a room where the door wasn’t entirely closed. As they closed in, Arcee picked up the sound of laboured venting. 

“No don’t.” A whisper came from the room. “You can’t.” 

“I’m fine.” A second voice said, a little louder and with a distinct growl. 

“No you’re not, you’re not fine. I can do this. I can do this for us, let me do it this time.” The first voice squeaked. 

First Aid got Arcee’s attention with a gesture, then his battlemask slipped aside and he mouthed ‘injured.’ Arcee nodded, but went in with her blasters raised regardless. 

Cornered, injured, even people on their own side could act out of instinct. She wasn’t taking any chances. 

Her entrance elicited a panicked screech and a fierce shout from across the room. Arcee powered her weapons up in response to the sound of a blaster activating. 

The two bots across the room had dim biolights. There was a softly glowing pool of energon accumulating beneath the stump of the leg of one of them, severed just below the knee. The uninjured one was holding the blaster, but it waggled and danced in his shaking servos. His visor seemed to be leaking sparks and he was the source of the harsh venting.

The injured bot had his own weapon raised but Arcee was willing to bet he no longer had the fuel to power it. 

“Oh Primus!” First Aid exclaimed, and he was moving before Arcee could stop him. “Stop stop stop, all of you stop. Lower the weapon please, I’m a medic!” 

“A medic?” The one with the blaster asked hopefully. “You’re a medic?” 

“It doesn’t matter what he is! Stay back!” The injured one shouted furiously. 

“Sir, you’re going to leak all your fuel onto the floor if you don’t let me at least clamp those lines closed.” First Aid said, battlemask snapping back into place as he continued forward. 

The injured bot looked around, seized hold of a nearby rock and threw it at First Aid with a grunt of effort. It left a dent where it hit the medic in the chest plates, but it didn’t halt him in his determination. 

“What are you doing? Shoot them!” The bot shouted at his companion, who squeaked and brought the blaster up again. 

“But… but he’s a medic!” Came a quiet protest. 

“They have weapons pointed at us, we have to defend ourselves!” 

At this, Arcee lowered her blasters and powered them down, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. “Not anymore.” She said. “How about you lower that gun now? And no more throwing rocks.” 

In the dim light, she could make out a brand on the chest plates of the uninjured mech. He was an Autobot, and so was the other, his own brand clearly displayed on both his shoulders. 

“Stay away!” The injured bot shouted, now trying to pull himself out of reach of First Aid. “I don’t need your help!” 

“Yes you do.” The other said in exasperation, crouching down next to him. “How are you supposed to protect me if you’re offline?” 

The words seemed to resonate with the injured bot, and realization stole over Arcee’s faceplates. 

“You’re a security drone.” She said, her optics wide. 

“Yes.” The injured bot hissed. “Assigned to protect this site and all those working in it.” 

“And I’m guessing that he’s the only one left to protect.” Arcee said, her hands lowering to her sides. 

“That’s right. And I refuse to fail in my mission! I will protect him to my dying breath.” 

“That’s going to come a lot sooner than you’d expect if you don’t let me help you.” First Aid said softly. 

“We didn’t come here to hurt you. We came searching for supplies.” Arcee said, and she remained right where she was. 

The injured bot’s nasal ridge curled and he snarled. “You came to pillage?!” He demanded. “To take our things! They’re not yours to take!” 

“Seeing that you’re here and obviously using them, we’re not going to take them from you.” Arcee reassured. 

“There’s not all that much here if we’re being honest.” The other mech said in a resigned tone. 

“It doesn’t matter! Our stuff is ours! Not theirs! Hey, keep your dirty servos to yourself!” 

“I’m really sorry, but my protocols are telling me to do this as fiercely as yours are telling you to protect all that you have left.” First Aid explained, his careful and steady servos working to clamp the leaking lines in the bot’s severed leg. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“I guess.” The bot sneered. There was a subtle tremble to his frame as he shifted to try and get more comfortable. 

Looking at the visored mech, Arcee held out her servo. “We’re not here to hurt you, or take your things.” She said. “Why don’t you give that to me?” 

“No thank you.” The mech said as he tucked the blaster a little closer to his frame. His arm bore the inscription ‘Waste Disposal,’ the words barely visible. “I’m gonna just keep it for now.” 

“Fair enough.” Arcee nodded and smiled. “Would you two like some fuel?” 

“If you have any to spare, that would be nice.” He replied. “Our supplies are pretty low.” 

“Will you stop talking, please. They don’t need to know that stuff. They don’t need to know any of it.” The injured bot hissed. 

“But they’re here to help us.” There was an edge of desperation to the visored mech’s voice. “This is a medic. He can fix your legs! They could maybe take us out of here to somewhere with more fuel, somewhere warm. Somewhere we won’t wake up having to pick scraplets out from under our armour.” The more he spoke, the more sparks poured from the edges of his visor. “They could take us somewhere and give you a better mission! One that wouldn’t require us to stay here! If we stay here… if we stay here, we’re going to die here. And we’ll die for nothing. Please, they’re here to help us.” 

There was a long silence, a hesitation. The two drones stared at one another, then the security drone ex-vented shortly and gave a jerk of his helm, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Fine. But we’re not about to be separated! Where he goes, I go. You got it?” He snapped. 

“Loud and clear.” Arcee said, reaching up to activate her comm to give the base a heads up that they were coming back with extras. 

 

“The goal was to return with supplies.” Ultra Magnus said with a stern edge. 

“And survivors. Or are we not counting drones these days, sir?” Arcee asked, brow arched at the Commander.

“Of course we are.” Ultra Magnus’s mouth turned down at the corners ever so slightly. “You’ll have to excuse my disappointment. More and more survivors, refugees and returning travellers are coming to the base every day. Without fresh supplies, I’m worried we won’t have the means to support them.” 

“We should put more of our resources into scavenging then. Maybe put a little less focus on hunting down the Decepticons that are still roaming.” Arcee suggested. “Security at the base is high, and tight.” 

“Still. We can never be too careful.” Ultra Magnus ex-vented slowly and folded his servos behind his back. “I’ll see about putting together a few more teams for the purpose of seeking fuel. Thank you, Arcee. You did good work today.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Arcee murmured, helm bowed. “Until we can find someone to take the drones under their proverbial wing, I’ll see to making sure they’re settled.” 

“That’s kind of you, but ultimately unnecessary. The medics will need to tend to them for the time being, seeing as the security drone is missing a leg. Leave the care of the drones to the medical team.” Ultra Magnus said. 

“Respectfully, sir… I think they’ve got enough on their plates already with Soundwave being in the medical bay.” Arcee said, looking up at him. 

Ultra Magnus seemed to mull this over for a moment, then he nodded. “You’re right. It might be easier to spare you for a few hours rather than making the medical bay potentially short staffed should some sort of emergency arise.” He said. “Your duties will be seen to by Bulkhead. Please let me know when you’re ready to come back.” 

“Thank you sir.” Arcee said with a polite nod before she turned to go. 

She could hear the shouting before she reached the medical bay, and she couldn’t help the grimace that she wore as she paused outside.

“I see you over there! If there is a single chromatinanite out of place on his frame, I will remove your wings and shove them up your exhaust pipe!”

The security drone certainly had a fiery temper, that was for sure. 

Arcee slipped into the room and smiled at Ratchet in amusement. The CMO was working on the security drone’s damaged leg and couldn’t spare her more than a glance, but his field brushed hers in a friendly greeting as she stepped closer.

“How’s it going?” She asked him. 

“Slowly. If only I had some way of keeping my patient from moving.” Ratchet replied shortly. “Oh, that’s right, I do!” 

“I told you, if you try to strap me down-” The security drone snapped. 

“Yes yes, you’ll shoot me. As you have been threatening to do in increasingly creative ways since I started putting you back together. You’d think, seeing as I’m the one ensuring you can continue serving your function to the fullest extent, I’d be spared your wrath but no! No, even your physician is obviously guilty of some falsely perceived crime and deserving of swift punishment!” Ratchet burst out. 

“Threatening the Hatchet? That’s brave.” Arcee teased. 

Ratchet straightened without looking at her, his knuckles creaking as he gripped his scalpel perhaps a bit too tightly. “I told you, do not call me that.” He said in a strained voice before he bent back to his task, muttering all the while.

“All in good fun, Ratchet. Now, how about you pipe down and let the good doctors do their jobs? Then, once you’re fixed up, I can take you to your hab.” Arcee said, her focus turned on the security drone. 

“Not without him.” The drone said with a scowl. 

“Space is a little tight, so today you get lucky. You two will be rooming together.” Arcee replied. “But only if you promise to behave yourself. No shooting anyone.” 

“What about the Decepticons? This place is crawling with them!” The drone asked. 

“And I’ve told you over and over again, there is an armistice! The war is over!” Ratchet said firmly. 

“He’s right, Sparky.” Arcee said in a slightly milder tone. “You don’t have to worry about any of the ‘Cons under this roof. They’re here because we’re working with them now.” 

“What? But that’s… you’re all traitors!” The drone said in disbelief. “Working with the Decepticons? After all they’ve done?!” 

“Times change. They’re trying, so are we. We’re all we have left in this world.” Arcee said, brows knit. “If we keep on fighting, we’re going to wipe one another out. And that will truly be the end of Cybertron, and of Cybertronians. Optimus Prime didn’t sacrifice his own spark to reignite the Well just so we could continue slaughtering one another.”

“He sacrificed himself?” The maintenance drone asked from across the room. Bushfire had finished his diagnostic scan and had left the drone sitting on the medical berth. 

“Yes. He did.” Arcee said with a glance at Ratchet. The medic was quiet, his mouth pulled into a tight line, his optics a bit dimmer than before. Turning back to the other drone, Arcee closed her right servo over her left elbow and ex-vented shortly. “And without his sacrifice, the Allspark never would have made it back to Cybertron and the Well of Allsparks wouldn’t have been able to produce new life. He saved us all.” 

“Wow. I’d say that makes him worthy of the title.” The maintenance drone said, optics wide behind his visor. 

“Hmph!” Ratchet grunted loudly. “I need a little less distraction, please! I have some very delicate work to do here.” 

Arcee murmured an apology and averted her gaze, let herself get lost in her own thoughts. A small servo touched hers and she startled. 

“Sorry for startling you. If you wouldn’t mind, could you maybe tell me more about him later?” The maintenance drone asked quietly. 

“I could do that.” Arcee said with a soft smile and a nod. “It occurs to me, I never asked your names.” 

“Ah.” The drone said and looked away. “Well, we don’t have names. So it’s okay that you didn’t ask for them.” 

“You don’t have names?” Arcee asked in alarm. “What did you call one another?” 

“Hey you?” The drone giggled. “When it’s just two of you sharing a small space, there’s not really much need for names. We had serial numbers back before the place was ruins, but there wasn’t really much need for those either.” 

“I see.” Arcee made a thoughtful sound. “Well, you ought to think about choosing something. There are a lot more people here, and ‘hey you’ might not cut it.” 

“Right.” The drone nodded. “We’ll uh, get right on that.” He fidgeted, then patted her hand again. “What’s your name?” 

“Arcee.” She replied. 

“Arcee. Ratchet. And the other doctor was Bushfire.” The drone mused. “There’s not really a theme, huh?” 

“Not really.” Arcee twitched a brow. “Does there need to be one?” 

“I guess not. Choosing a name isn’t easy.” The drone sighed heavily. “I’m gonna just sit over here and think on it a bit.” 

“There’s no rush.” Arcee shrugged. “I wish I had suggestions, but naming things isn’t exactly my area of expertise.” 

“There aren’t any names no one is using right now? Other than Optimus of course because I feel like that’s pretty presumptuous. And also too soon.” The drone said, eliciting a short laugh from Arcee. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” She said in reply. 

“If you think of any good matching names, could you let me know?” The drone asked hopefully. 

“They have to be matching?” Arcee asked, brow raised. 

“Well…” The drone twisted his digits together. “Yeah. We're partners.”

 

“They said the magic words, then?” Bulkhead asked as he sat down next to her on the roof of the command center. He handed Arcee a cube of mid-grade that she accepted after a brief hesitation. “I can see the cogs turning in that head of yours, Arcee.” 

“It’s gotta be written all over my face too.” Arcee sighed and took a sip from the cube. “I guess it explains why I decided so quickly to take them under my wing.” She had come up here to sit and think things over. Since her last conversation with the maintenance drone, she hadn't been able to stop thinking actually.

“What exactly are you planning to do with them now? I don’t see you exactly having the patience to teach them how to properly integrate into our new society.” Bulkhead asked as he looked over at her with a gentle smile. 

“I dunno Bulk. Right now, I feel as lost as they are.” Arcee admitted, pulling her knee up and resting her chin against it. “We’ve all got a lot on our plates. The armistice is holding, but I can’t shake the feeling there’s a storm just over the horizon. We can’t see the clouds but we can feel the pressure.” 

“War will do that to you.” Bulkhead turned his gaze to the skyline and sighed. He lifted his cube and drained it, then crumpled it and tossed it over the edge at a Vehicon below. “Hey! That better not be what I think it is!” He barked once the Vehicon had yelped in shock at being hit in the helm from above. 

“N-no sir! Just a cygarette sir! I swear! I’m on break!” The Vehicon called. 

“Yeah, well, we’ve got a designated area for that! Just because Kup doesn’t follow the rules doesn’t mean you get to as well!” Bulkhead called, and the Vehicon was scurrying into the darkness with a quickly bleated apology. 

“We’ve got a bit of a syk problem. No idea where it’s coming from, but Prowl’s been looking into it.” Bulkhead explained when he caught Arcee’s curious gaze. “I caught one of the crews working under me indulging the other day. We can’t have construction being done while under the influence, now can we?”

“Gotcha.” Arcee said with a nod. 

“As far as the drones are concerned? Do what you think is best, Arcee. I believe in you.” Bulkhead reached over and patted her shoulder amiably with a large servo. “I better get back down there. Don’t want the workers slacking off just because the boss is on break. Take care of yourself, okay?” 

“Sure thing. Hey Bulkhead? Thanks.” Arcee smiled up at the bigger mech. “For the company, and the pep talk.” 

Bulkhead smiled again and headed back down, leaving Arcee alone under the stars. 

“Partners, huh?” Arcee mused as she gazed up at the twinkling lights above. “What do you think, partners? Is it too soon?” 

There were of course two perfectly good names that weren’t in use right now. Names that didn’t have a theme per say, but ones that went together. 

Once she was finished her cube, Arcee rose, stretched and returned to base. Since the security drone was still technically in recovery, both drones were still hanging around the medical bay.

“Oh great. She’s back.” The security drone said, optics narrowed and mouth pulled into a tight line. 

The maintenance drone sighed shortly. He sounded tired when he spoke. 

“Hello again, Arcee. Did you find a room for us?” He asked. 

“Not yet. Still working on that. I’ve got something else for you though.” Arcee said with a smile. 

“Is it food? Because we were promised proper food, not these medigrade rations they’ve been feeding us.” The security drone snapped. 

“I don’t think it’s food, or we’d see it.” The maintenance drone said over his shoulder before he looked up at Arcee once more. There was a glint in his visor and an edge to his field that made Arcee think he must have been smiling. “It’s something better, isn’t it?” 

“I guess that’s up to you to decide.” Arcee smiled a bit more broadly now. “Because I think I found you both names.” 

“See? I told you it was better than food.” The maintenance drone chirped. “What’s the theme?” 

“A fitting one, I think.” Arcee’s field welled with emotion. “The theme is ‘partners.’” 

The drones were both silent. They exchanged glances with one another, and the maintenance drone put a small servo on the security drone’s shoulder before turning his gaze back to Arcee.

“I like it.” He said with a soft laugh. “What are the names?” 

“I’m thinking… yours will be Cliffjumper.” Arcee said to the security drone, who looked up in surprise. “And yours will be Tailgate.” She told the maintenance drone.

Arcee half expected the security drone to scoff, but he seemed to mull it over for only a moment before nodding. 

“They were your partners?” He asked. When Arcee nodded and made a sound of affirmation, his expression softened. “Are you sure?” 

“I am. And they would be too.” Arcee lowered her optics and her smile took on a sad edge. “I think they’d be honored.” 

“Okay then. Cliffjumper it is.” The security drone said with another nod. He didn’t quite smile, but Arcee could feel the edges of his field as he let it creep out at last. 

“And I’m Tailgate! Tailgate! I like it! Thank you!” Tailgate said. He threw his arms around Arcee’s waist and lifted her off the ground in a hug that was nearly as crushing as one from Bulkhead. 

Letting out a grunt of surprise, Arcee stared down at Tailgate with wide optics. “Glad you like it.” She said in a strained voice. 

“I love it! I have a name! You gave us names! Cliffjumper!” Tailgate set Arcee down and spun round to face his partner. “Cliffjumper!” 

“I’m right here, you don’t have to yell.” Cliffjumper muttered in mild irritation. 

“I second that sentiment,” came Ravage’s equally annoyed voice from across the room. “Some of us have very sensitive audials, thank you very much.” 

“Oops.” Tailgate put his servos to his mask and giggled. “Sorry! I’m just so excited.” 

“I’m sure it will take some getting used to.” Arcee chuckled. “Now we can finish your registration and officially welcome you to the fold.” 

“We’re going to stay Autobots?” Cliffjumper asked. 

“We could be Decepticons if we wanted to, right?” Tailgate queried. 

“You idiot, why would you want to be a Decepticon?” Cliffjumper snapped.

“I never said I wanted to be, I was just asking if we had the choice!” Tailgate said, a hurt light in his visor. “Of course we’re going to stay Autobots. We followed the Primes before, and Optimus Prime was an Autobot.” 

“Yes he was. The greatest of all of us.” Arcee glowed with pride. 

“I mean, I never knew him so I can’t exactly make an accurate judgment of that statement, and I might be biased, but I think the greatest Autobot is the one standing right here.” Tailgate was beaming as he waved his servo at Arcee. 

“What?” Arcee laughed and shook her helm. “Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty biased on that. You must really like the name.” 

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me.” Tailgate’s tone was very fond, and Arcee felt her cheeks warm a little as a result. 

“Hey, I gave you a gun!” Cliffjumper protested. 

“It was a great gun and everything, Cliffjumper, but I couldn’t even use it.” Tailgate sounded rueful. “Really, it was great. But we have names now. That’s the best.” 

“That’s okay I guess.” Cliffjumper fell into bitter muttering under his breath. 

Arcee couldn’t help the laughter that welled up, one of her hands pressed to her stomach and the other braced against the wall as she laughed herself silly. Tailgate soon joined her, and even Cliffjumper couldn’t quite conceal the wobble of his mouth and the snort that escaped him. 

“I think you two are going to fit in just fine.” Arcee wiped her optics and wheezed. 

There was no doubt about it. Arcee was sure that somewhere out there in the stars, the sparks of her old partners were glowing bright with pride.


End file.
